Attraction
by sphinxofthenile
Summary: Crisis Core. Sephiroth discovers he craves more than just victory. Sephiroth/Genesis drabbles. Ratings, length and genre varies. For more detail please see the chapters.
1. Attraction

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. If I did, Crisis Core would be rated 18+. And not for violance.

**Warning:** Tiny bit of angst, boys love!

**A/N: **Please don't kill me.

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He was so strikingly beautiful. That silken hair, the bright, Mako eyes… The lean body that moved so gracefully during our fights…

I've watched him kneeling before me, hand pressed to his injured shoulder, eyes fixed on the ground, and my initial worry gave place to a strange feeling.

The desire to grab him, to claim him, to _dominate_ him; so fiery, so radiant. So strong.

No one ever could challange me with such force, no one could match my power as he did. I imagined his lips under mine, silky, hot, sweet…

_Mine._

My grip tightened on the hilt of Masamune. Every time I defeated him like this, he was mine, I suddenly realised, the thought warming soul and body.

And he knew it too, that's why he avoided to look at me, to show it as it was… Oh, he had never been as good at hiding his emotions as I.

He stood up slowly, the movement graceful, but weary. He reached for his sword, and suddenly I felt the urge to defeat him again, to strike him down, to bask in his sweet defeat, but I've just watched him silently, well aware of the eyes on us.

_Not now._

He walked past me with his usual nonchalant arrogance, but beneath that mask I could sense his hurt pride, his bitter disappointment.

I've watched him disappear through the door, only when he was already gone did I move. Without much thought, I hurried after him, the empty corridor faintly echoing our footsteps.

„Wait!"

He turned around, a bitter smile on his lips. His blue eyes seemed to cut through my soul. Hidden behind cold blue, fire was burning inside, an all-consuming, dangerous inferno of conflicting emotions.

„What do you want, Sephiroth?"

I didn't answer. There was nothing I could say. I just pinned him to the wall, hearing him hiss as his injured shoulder hit the cold metal, everything he could've said silenced by my mouth on his.

I was forceful, and for a moment he was completely still under my hands, but just when I considered drawing back from the one-sided kiss, he opened up and responded with a passion so ardent I've never even dreamt of eliciting.

His arms sneaked around my waist, he tilted his head a little to give me better access and I used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, my hand sliding to cradle the back of his head, fingers entwined in that gorgeous hair.

His lips tasted like fire, like power, hot and sweet, but the sweetest taste of all was his eagerness as he fought for dominance once again.

I wanted to kiss him until he was out of breath, see him give in and submit to me completely, but he suddenly pushed me away with surprising strength, his blue eyes burning with devilish satisfaction, he scoffed at me and walked away.

I knew better than to follow. I've watched as he walked towards Medical and couldn't help the small smirk creeping to my lips.

„So it seems, there are still some things for me to find out about you… Genesis."


	2. Pieces

**Disclaimer:** I don't own, SE does. All I own is the pictures in my head.

**AN:** I should be doing a bunch of other stuff, but this little something just popped into my head and I decided to post it, because it seems to go well with the other piece, Attraction. There might or might not be more, all depends on my mercurial Genesis muse. :) Any more drabbles will probably end up here, so I'm leaving the status label as "in progress". Reviews, ideas, observations and remarks are welcome.

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„Why have you called me here?" Sephiroth asked, supressing the urge to cross his arms. 

The other just grinned at him as he pushed himself away from the old brick wall and stepped close, sneaking his arms around the slim waist clad in black leather, looking directly into the cat-like green eyes.

Sephiroth looked back into the blue ones that were as beautiful as sinister.

„You know that if anyone cathes us…" He started indifferently, face and tone almost bored, but he was cut off by a low chuckle.

„Do I look like I care?"

As hot, demanding lips sealed his own and the strong, lean body pushed into his, between pulling him even closer and opening his mouth to answer the kiss, Sephiroth had to admit that Genesis certainly didn't seem to be concerned in the least.

He was always like this, fuelled by emotion and leaving reason to others.

Maybe that's why they fitted so perfectly together.


	3. Perfect

Disclaimer: Do not own.

Summary: There are no innocent gifts.

Warning: Erm... crack?

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"Just open it," Sephiroth smirked at the cautious look Genesis gave to the box in his lap. It was a big, black cardboard box with a golden emblem on the top, and the hands in red leather gloves hesitated for a moment more before lifting the lid. 

Sephiroth watched with obvious amusement as the other's face went through an array of emotions, then settled somewhere between disbelief and wonder. "I take it I chose well." He all but purred, and chuckled when he saw the small blush creeping to Genesis' face.

"They are beautiful," he said almost defensively, and Sephiroth chuckled again.

"Won't you try them on?" Without waiting for a reply, he slid off the couch and took the box, kneeling on the ground before the other. Placing one of Genesis' long legs on his thigh, he lifted up the high-heeled red leather boots from the padded box.

He looked into the azure mako eyes and slipped the shapely feet into the footwear, hands encircling the slim ankles, one after the other, and slowly, oh so slowly sliding further, up to the knee, his gaze never breaking eye contact.

He loved to look into those eyes, expressive no matter how hard Genesis tried to keep them indifferent. His sweetest flaw of all... Especially at times like these, when there was so much fire in them that it made Sephiroth feel like he was burning too.

He reached for the buckles, red patent leather straps with small silver belt-buckles that kept the soft material so tight around the legs as though it were just a second layer of skin. He fastened them one by one, taking his sweet time.

He heard Genesis let out a small sigh and it made him smirk in the most devilish way possible. He had a fairly good idea what the highly suggestive view (and probably not just that) was doing to the other SOLDIER.

He looked up again, voice a deliberately husky purr as he spoke. "Isn't it too tight?" Strong fingers came to rest on his knees, then started to trail upwards. "Just… perfect." Genesis breathed with his eyes shut.

"Now, if you two are finished with making out on _my_ couch, maybe we could start dinner before the turkey grows cold." Angeal rolled his eyes at them from the doorway, and turned away to hide his amused smile as he heard both of them sigh.

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AN2: If any of you wondered, Genesis in high heels _is_ canon. I have a pic. :P 


	4. Nephilim

**Disclaimer: **Oh, how I wish I owned them!**  
****Warning: **angst

**Feedback is love. **

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Genesis screams. Screams like he's dying, and were it not for Angeal, Sephiroth would break down the steel door to Hollander's laboratory.

Genesis completely avoids him from then on. Though he tries not to show, Sephiroth is getting more worried by the day. Worried and guilt-ridden.

He stands in front of the familiar door, raises his hand to knock, but in the end doesn't. The room is empty, the bathroom door is closed. He whispers through the thin wood.

Genesis tells him to go away. Sounds like he's choking. And this time, there is no one to keep Sephiroth outside.

He pushes the door open, green eyes going wide. There are black feathers everywhere in the pure whiteness. The room looks like the scene of some voodoo ritual gone bad, except that it is Genesis sitting in the middle of this mess, tears flowing down his cheeks and blood flowing down his back.


	5. Sugar Pain

**Disclaimer: Words are mine, the guys are not.**

**AN: Genesis POV, inspired by jenovas boy at LJ**

**_RATING CHANGE!_ Please note that this chapter is rated T for some serious angst and non-explicit smex between two males. Thanks.**

**As always, feedback is love. ;3**

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Hurting, aching, needing. What? I cannot know. What I know is that I want you to hold on to me because I have nothing to hold on to. 

The world has lost its path.

I'm too afraid to say I'm afraid, and I keep my eyes shut, spinning deeper into the void.

Will you follow me?

You smile and I grit my teeth, clawing, pulling, wanting.

You are like the virus you carry, you are inside me and if I wanted to kill you I would have to kill myself.

The fire and the butterfly. You desecrate me and I kiss you.

I want you to look at me, to look _inside_ me and see what I can not speak of.

Fragile.

No strings to hold me sane. Can you follow?

I'm like a deer caught in a headlight. Paralyzed, I stare the end in the eye and I can see as my bloodied body falls. Who will lay me to sleep?

Reflected in your eyes, my madness stares back at me. Blow out the candles.

Broken, mismatched pieces.

You.

Me.

Biting, kissing, holding.

I offer you myself, unworthy sacrifice. You take it and it shatters me.

Tell me once more I'm beautiful.

Grunting, whimpering, hissing.

I know I'm hurting you. My teeth leave bruises and you laugh.

Will you break my fall? For my wing is broken and I can no longer fly.

Harder, faster.

Lips like silk.

Power.

Say something, anything to me. Say we can be what we have always wanted. Whisper my name into the dark, the only sound of my silent victory ever.

Except that we are both destined to lose.

Deeper, stronger.

Can you save me? Will you?

I soak in you and it burns. Choking, I scream.

Release the bird from the cage.

Ripples of water.

I crave you so bad, my body trembles.

Can you feel it?

You.

Only you.

I tear into flesh. Doesn't matter whose until it hurts one of us so perfect.

I'm in your blood and you are in my tears.

You.

Me.

Rapture.

Have you ever seen the stars in my eyes?

I want to merge our skins.

Blazing.

So many sunrises, so little time. Let it be how it is not supposed to.

We are monsters.

Do you remember? How young I was. How innocent.

Taken away. What's left is what's yours.

The White Banora Apples.

Claim it.

What I am now?

These cutting shards of my heart litter your floor.

Ripples on the water.

Don't let go. I am what you make me to be.

Harder, deeper.

Panting, moaning, thrusting.

Conquer.

So sweet it's bitter, don't cover me in lies.

Faster, stronger.

More.

Don't stop. Don't ever stop.

Pushing, arching, tensing.

Silver among my fingers and sweet, molten gold in my veins.

I close my eyes.

Breathe.

Red sunlight. Morning comes too soon. Don't leave me, I'm so cold. Hold me a little longer.

_Always._

Hold me until I break.


	6. To Err Is Human

**Disclaimer: Don't own, never did, never will.**

**Warning: crack **

**AN: Rating is K for this chappie. After all this angst, it was high time for something lighter. My apologies. **

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Sephiroth made his way through the crowd of ShinRa employees rushing to the canteen. Well, he didn't have that much of a trouble, because those with the smallest bit of survival instinct in them (and thank god it involved most of the people working for the organisation) knew better than to stand in his way. 

In the far corner he noticed a familiar face, a face with powerful, noble features that inspired respect and trust at first sight. Well, at least he had no other way to explain why he felt an instant liking to this man when he was usually so distant with strangers.

Angeal… The man was a new recruit from some godforsaken village Sephiroth never even heard of before and whose name he had forgotten by now, but he remembered how friendly the rookie was towards him in his own quiet, reserved way when they met on the running track the day before, and he made his way towards him.

Only halfway through the distance did he realise the man wasn't alone.

At first that stopped him because he wasn't sure he wanted to meet (or godsave him) talk to someone other than the black-haired youth. He made another step towards them, this time not as self-confident, then he stopped again, because Angeal was clearly with a _woman_.

And damn, they stood rather close to each other, like very good friends, or…

Now he was sure he didn't want to interrupt whatever discussion they were having, but the boy had noticed him already, and waved at him invitingly, so he had no other choice, but to join them. In the rather awkward moment of silence he studied the lucky woman from the corner of his eye.

Well, even though he himself wasn't into girls, he could see why Angeal would find her attractive. Though the knee-length, grey coat (that suspiciously looked like cashmere) didn't reveal much of her figure, Sephiroth could still tell those were some gorgeous legs, not to mention the pretty face. Oh well, scrap that, he had to admit pretty wasn't even _close_.

He cleared his throat. „Now, would you introduce me your lady here, cadet?"

Two pairs of eyebrows rose high as the two burst into uncontrollable laughter, then the girl turned to him fully, holding out a hand (that was still slightly shaking as her body convulsed with small chuckles) to the stunned general.

„The name is Genesis. Nice to meet ShinRa's greatest warrior."

That voice…

Oh. Oooh,_shit_.

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** AN2:** this is totally blamed on RL friends who just can't seem to wrap their minds around the fact that Gackt is NOT a woman. xD 


	7. Red Withering

**Disclaimer: Don't own, SE does.**

**Warning: Rated M for _blood, violance, disturbing contents_. **

**A/N: Haven't been around for a while, RL keeps me occupied most of the time. Well, at least something longer this time, hope you'll like it:) **

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You have forsaken me. I'm on your side now, amongst the shadows, amongst the monsters, you have dragged me here with you and yet you turn your back on me. Are you happy now? Driving your claws into my heart because yours can no longer bleed?

Do you think it was easy for me to watch you dying? To watch you break down brick by brick what once used to be me and you? Do you think I was smiling?

You are pleading. You are _begging_ me to turn back from the path you've set out in front of me. You are pathetic. There is no turning back now songbird, and you should be one to know that.

Yet, you go on. You disgust me, so miserable, so weak… Makes me want to kiss you back into what you used to be.

_Traitor_, the voices whisper darkly.

They'll pay for what they'd done. Does that scare you? You say it's madness. Perhaps you are right… But admit it, there is just something incredibly funny about the fact that it is _you _telling_me_ I've flipped.

You look so surprised when my blade cuts through your flesh. Your beautiful eyes so wide with disbelief and pain, lips slightly parted in a silent gasp… Do you have any idea what a sight you are? How so fucking beautiful…

You don't even flich as I lean in and lap at the lukewarm blood dripping steadily from the sword still embedded in your shoulder. The taste of iron over that of smoky steel… It should be, by all means, salty, but it's sweet, sweet like poison… It leaves me craving for more.

You should see your eyes. I've opened an endless void under your feet and pushed you over its edge, and to watch you falling is a pleasure that is almost sensual. Oh, I'm so going to enjoy this. You have a lot to pay for, and I'll make you pay all right, my beautiful…

_Yessss_, the voices hiss malevolent, craving.

I could cover you in a thousand barely visible cuts, map out your body with red kisses, this body that begs to be ravished even if you don't.

I touch your face, smearing the whiteness with their blood that is still on my hands, the blood of those worthless puppets down in the valley; and it's only now that you cringe, your eyes leaving mine.

I'm not having any of that.

I swiftly pull the blade from your shoulder, grabbing your chin and forcing it back. You'll look at me no matter what. I'll _make_ you look at me.

The voices laugh with malicious glee as your eyes go wide with pain and fear once again, and before I know what I'm doing, my lips connect with yours, kissing so harshly I can soon taste fresh blood, my fingers gripping so tight I know they'll leave bruises.

Why aren't you trembling? Why aren't you crying now? Why don't you yell at me or hit me now that I've released you? You just stand there like a breathtakingly frail statue. Why don't you _do_ something? Beautiful… Why don't you fight now?

Something grips at my heart as I watch you standing there, your blood slowly dripping to the soil, blooming withering roses there; and the voices screech their surprised disapproval. They stab through my head with a white rush of pain, but I push them away. My focus is on you.

_Broken doll_, the voices scream. _Ruined salvation_, somewhere deep inside of me a tiny voice cries. _Worthless_, they hiss._Everything_, I ache.

My fingers sink into your silken hair, grabbing and pulling at the auburn strands, forcing your face upwards so I can see the damage I have done. Your lips are split and bruised, your blood mixes with theirs. I notice red nail marks on your temple and neck, did I make those? They look so ugly on your porcelain skin.

Where is your fire? Where is your flaring anger, flamboyant self-righteousness? Where are _you_?

The print of my hand is an angry red against your marred skin, the slap rings loud in the cold silence between us, but you don't move, don't even blink, just keep looking at me with blue-green eyes so pained and so _knowing_…

And it is me slowly sinking down on my knees and burying my face into your thighs, clutching tight, shaking; and you crounching down beside me eventually, breathing a kiss on my forehead before walking away.


	8. First Class Club AN

Hi everyone! I bring you something different this time. As probably some of you already know, I have been working on a longer Seph/Gen one-shot lately, so instead of a new drabble, I bring you this piece now! Regretfully, the lovely owners of this site would ban me for sure if I posted it here, so please follow the adress down there to my journal, and don't forget to leave a comment! I promise to give cookies! "smiles"

What's on offer?

**Title:** First Class Club  
**Pairing:** Sephiroth/Genesis/Angeal/Zack, and permutations  
**Rating:** NC-17 doesn't even come near it!

**Summary:** _Rule number one - you do not talk about this._

_Rule number two - you do not talk about this._

_Rule number three - If Sephiroth even dreams about you talking about this, he'll make you eat your testicles. One by one._

_Rule number four - if Angeal dreams about you talking about this to anyone, you can bet your hot little ass you'll be turned into dog food._

_Rule number five - you do not want Genesis even dreaming about you talking about this._

**Warning:** Well… foursome, bondage, blindfold, food kink, possible minor, horrendous amounts of smut, alcohol, language, yaoi, kidnapping, weapon play, voyeurism, yaoi. Need I say more? Oh, and PWP doesn't stand a chance before this! You have been hereby warned.  
**Authors' notes:** Written by Andrannath aka icelady and sphinxofthenile aka moi  
**Word count:** 18,214, and yes, you read that right

If this managed to spike your curiousity, please paste this into your browser without the spaces and have fun! :D

h t t p : / / s p h i n x o f t h e n i l e . l i v e j o u r n a l . c o m / 2 8 5 0 3 . h t m l # c u t i d 1


	9. Nibelheim Burns

**Disclaimer: Don't own them. They own me.**

**A/N: I've written this a while back, and I'm a bit insecure about it. Review, please?**

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Nibelheim burns.

The flames flare high in the night, painting the dark sky with the colors of destruction, shadowing the stars. The sky is clear, weeping a thousand diamond tears at the horridly breathtaking scenery.

_Blue eyes shining from under long lashes, daring, taunting, smug._

Long silver hair weaving in the cold, crystal wind rushing down from the peaks where he knows the reactor is as if in greeting, illuminated by the light of silver and red, he stands on a cliff overlooking the valley.

Motionless.

_Red gloved hand balling into a fist, bringing a fire to life that matches that of the blue mako eyes._

Nibelheim burns.

The fire swallows the homes one by one, the flames roaring, twirling in a thousand shades of crimson and gold, dancing over the the roofs like it has a life on its own, scorching, destructive, untameable beauty.

_Red hair lit by the light of the just waking morning sun._

So ambiguous, it gives warmth, light, protection, but it burns, destroys too… So captivating it's easy to forget how dangerous it really is, how disorderly, and the cat-like green eyes are fixed on its deadly dance.

Emotionless.

_Shining red crown of hair tainted with streaks of ashen grey. _

Nibelheim burns.

He watches as the small town is slowly being consumed, turning black, darker than the night surrounding it until only the red of the embers will glow faintly between the remains, and once it's gone, there will be nothing left but ruins and smoke…

_Skin, once flawless, ivory skin washed white, fading like the grey of smoke, like the morning mist in the autumn meadows. _

He turns and leaves without a backward glance. The night is closing its end and there is still much to do. No past is important on this path, it's only the future that matters.

Thoughtless.

_Cool, pale skin marred with warm, bright red… _

In the empty darkness of the night, Nibelheim burns.


	10. So Cold

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: angst**

**A/N: Just something that slipped (again).**

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_"Show me how it ends it's alright" - Breaking Benjamin (So Cold)_

Then and there, you stood above me, and I thought this was the end, and there was something oddly reassuring in the fact that it would be your hand ending all this misery… But you didn't. Your hand never trembling, eyes forever unreadable, you didn't deliver the final blow. Why?

It would be so convenient to say it was because somewhere inside your heart there is still a part that hadn't forsaken me completely… Oh, pretty dreams of a child. Yes, once… Once I knew I had a place there, once, that time seems so far away like the stars above my head… Do you look up at the stars like I do and remember the time you held me and said 'forever'?

How long is forever? Once, once I believed forever never ended, and I remember those days with the taste of honey in my mouth. We were friends, brothers in arms swearing loyalty to each other above everyone else, perpetual rivals in war and chained together in love. It all seems so long ago…

What are we now? All I know is that when I saw you I felt so much hatred I could've killed you for leaving me to die like a disowned dog… Your betrayal hurt me more than the cursed knowledge of what I've become. How could you? From everything when did I become nothing? I wish I could hide my face forever… We are nothing what we used to be. Are we enemies then? Yet you didn't kill me when you had the chance… I can't read you anymore. Could I ever?

So many questions without answer, I can't even figure myself out. If we are enemies now, why is this strange void inside me I forget about when you throw old teasings as real offences into my face? Why is it your voice chills me to the bone, so deeply familiar and yet so very alien in its icy smoothness? When you stood above me, eyes cold and merciless like the blade of your precious Masamune pressing into the skin of my throat, turning away without drawing blood, why did I feel like crying?


	11. Up Through the Ashes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, they own me.**  
Warning:** erm... angst? cliched-ness?**  
AN: **One-shot, but can be read as a sequel to Nephilim. Title snatched from Kamelot.

**AN2: With my last small story, Attraction have reached past fifty reviews. Thank you all my wonderful readers! This one is dedicated to all of you for being this kind and wonderful and giving me so many happy moments along the way. And to Jenna, because she is amazing. Thank you!**

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"_This could be the last time, you will  
Stand by my side  
I can feel my soul it's bleeding,  
Will you fly with me this evening?"_

_/Three Doors Down – By My Side/_

--

„Sephiroth, stop!" Genesis' voice came out a long, suffocating whine, muscles tensing in objection, but his weak opposition was nothing to the other man who stayed sternly silent, gripping Genesis' wrist tighter.

With a sudden rush of terrified anger, Genesis jerked his hand free. „I said _stop_!"

Sephiroth looked at him trying to come across as strong and confident even though his body was trembling, fear and pain and shame written all over his face. He shied away from the silver haired general, arms sneaking around his own waist.

„I don't want to do this," he whispered, eyes downcast. Sephiroth stepped close, tracing Genesis' cheekbone with the back of his fingers.

„Gen…"

„No."

„Gen, look at me." He didn't know what worked on the other man, his reassuring tone or the soothing touch, but Genesis slowly raised his head, locking their eyes. Not even during the madness of the Wutaian War had he ever seen the azure eyes like this… It gripped at Sephiroth's heart as he ran a hand through brown locks, stroking them back from that beautiful face. „Do you trust me, songbird?"

For a long time he though he'd receive no answer, but then he heard the quiet, barely there whisper. „You know I do."

„Then let me go through with this. It's only you and me here, only the two of us," Sephiroth almost purred with velvet-wrapped persuasion, his thumb running lazy circles on ivory skin. For a few moments he waited, then, as Genesis slowly nodded, he allowed himself a small smile and an equally small peck to one delicate eyebrow. „Give me your hand."

He saw Genesis' eyes freeze over, but the narrow hand came to rest in his, filling him with an oddly warm feeling. He slowly lifted it up, giving it a reassuring squeeze, then cautiously guided the bare fingers until they touched the soft, silky feathers billowing in the gentle breeze, shining dark in the light of the dying sun.

Genesis cringed visibly with the touch, but the black leather clad hand held his tightly, leaving no chance to pull away. His eyes burned, chest heaving with moist, suffocating breaths, fingers itching to get away from… from…

He shut his eyes, tears threatening to run freely once again, and while he could let them flow when he was alone, he wouldn't do it now, not here, not now, not like this. His fingers tore into the heavy, satiny mass of feathers, as if that would make his wing disappear, as if the pain would purify him from its cursed existance, but he was stopped once again, slender, leather-clad fingers sliding between his and clutching tightly, securely, reassuringly.

„Don't."

The deep, silken voice was full of tenderness, it made him want to snap, to scream, to curl into a ball and shut the world out.

A world he no longer belonged to.

„It's not your fault," Sephiroth spoke again, as if reading his thoughts, and Genesis forced open his burning eyes.

„_It is your fate. Your dreams and pride are no more. From the Goddess's bow, the fated arrow is released."_

The familiar words hurt, their truth hurt like he was trying to force sharp blades up his throat, making his voice raw, traitorous, shredded red velvet. His head was reeling with the acrid sickness gripping him so tight he had difficulties breathing, like he was choking on his own words and he shut his eyes once more.

„Genesis…," he could feel fingers sliding under his chin clad in soft, cool, nice-smelling leather, tilting it up, but he refused to open them again, to look into those shining green like a cat's. „Look at me, songbird."

The voice was so soft, almost affectionate, but there was no mistaking that it was not a request, but an order, laced with so much power and dominance that in his current state, Genesis couldn't even dream about resisting it. The last rays of the sun landed in the azure pool of his irises and lit them up with a sorry replacement of their usual fire, yet so blindingly beautiful.

It took a moment or two for them to trully start seeing, and they went wide with stunned disbelief, and his free hand reached out to catch one slightly iridescent black feather that landed on his palm softly and silently, until another roll of the gentle breeze sent it flying once again.

Sephiroth flapped his own wing, pulling the redhead with him and stretching out his other hand invitingly too, a smile in his eyes that didn't reach his lips because they were gently pressed into silently trembling ones before their feet slowly rose from the ground.


	12. Perfect Insanity

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: These two drabbles are _horribly_ and totally CRACK. I recommend you have brainbleach and proceed with care. Rated PG. Second is the direct spinoff of the first.**

**A/N: Everything is blamed on Icelady aka Andrannath. Just a little something from my exam-tortured mind that wanted out. Let's pretend it never happened, okay? Otherwise, I'm working on two longer pieces and Ice and I are working on the sequel to First Class Club as well as another Seph/Gen multichapter, so there _will _be some serious stuff here in the future. :)**

* * *

**Title:** Stork

**A/N:** Written for the # prompt: weird days at the workplace from ffvii100 at IJ

The corridors in Medical are brightly lit and far too alive for this ungodly hour, but one corner is noticeably avoided by every and each member of the staff, the one where a tall, godly figure stands commandingly, all black leather and silver hair, conversing with a short, nimble man in a white coat, the doctor's nervous fingers toying with eyeglasses.

"As I said, he seems to be all right at the moment..."

"Let go, Angeal, I'll fucking _kill_ him!"

"So I hear," Sephiroth replies with wry sarcasm, and one corner of pale lips twitches almost invisibly. "And the baby?"

* * *

**Title:** God in Need

**A/N:** Written for the # prompt: alternate universe from ffvii100 at IJ

Letting _Him _take his body over is painful, but they _have to_ find Mother. He keeps that in mind as he kneels before the wheelchair.

Kadaj smiles, knowing that He misses that strong presence too, the poisonously sweet, whispering voice, everything that shouldn't, by all means, be ever separated from them, everything that can hurt them by just not being where it belongs.

The blonde's eyes are mostly hidden, but Kadaj can still feel his surprise and fear as _He_ emerges.

"Hello, Rufus," the dangerous voice purrs, steel grip of long, black clad fingers on thin knees. "Where. Is. Genesis?"


	13. Visual Thinking

**Disclaimer: I do not own these guys, they own me.**

**AN: Crack. Written for my beloved Andrannath aka Ice.**

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_'''Visual/spatial learning''' is the common phenomenon of thinking through visual processing."_

* * *

"I never really understood your infatuation with them," Sephiroth leaned back in his chair, gesturing towards the apple in Genesis' hand. The redhead arched one elegant eyebrow, rose from his own seat and circled the huge desk like a regal feline about to pounce. He finally came to stand between the general and his work, leaning to the desk, a red gloved hand pushing the papers carelessly aside.

"That is, my friend, because you've never tried them properly," Genesis drawled lazily, taking another bite of the ripe fruit and lapping up the juice that escaped his mouth in a way that could've easily passed as sexual harrassment at the workplace.

Not that Sephiroth was about to complain. "Which would be?" he added his own eyebrow raise to the conversation, uncrossing his legs, a blunt invitation. Work was screwed the moment Genesis barged into his office anyway.

"Well, I guess I could give you a taste...," Genesis lowered his eyelids and and in one smooth motion slid his body into Sephiroth's lap, pressing his lips to those of the silver general and passing a piece of juicy fruit into his mouth once the pale lips opened up for him.

Sephiroth snatched the delicious treat, savoring the taste of the apple and his lover together, sweet and tart and oh so very appetizing.

"I must admit, it has some rather... appealing qualities," he all but purred once their mouths separated, and a smirk graced Genesis lips as he felt Sephiroth' palms on his ass, pulling him closer to that gorgeous body in snug black leather, sending sparks of excitement through both of them, lips finding lips once more.

"So, this is your secret recipe then?" Sephiroth asked between kisses, half-smiling.

"The one of the two I didn't learn from my grandmother," Genesis agreed, chuckling as the gap between them suddenly widened considerably.

"You just _had to_ say that, right?"


	14. Long Road To Ruin

**Disclaimer: Do not own them, they own me.**

**A/N: Just decided to clean out my writing folder, so here are a few drabbles I've written a while back but never got down to posting. Enjoy! :)  
**

* * *

**Title: **Blind

**Pairing: **Sephiroth/Genesis

**Rating: **PG at most

**Warning: **angst

**A/N: **post DoC I guess, Genesis POV

**--**

Too bad we have the distance of stars and lightyears separating us now. Too bad there are no words that could reach you now, even though I'm not even sure I could tell you anything.

Even if so much is needed to be said.

See, all this time I've been here, locked up and atoning for sins I've never trully felt remorse for and aching for things that were no crimes and yet hurt more than those. Like not saying that I was sorry. Not saying I wasn't infallible, even though we both knew that, and it just made things between us all the more bitter.

Here, I had time to think. To think, and think again, nothing to let me escape from that vicious circle of remembering and going from the cold loveless arms of one 'what if' to another.

Here, I had time to think. I've been taught that you could be everything in this world if you wanted it enough. That you could never be defeated, never be destroyed if you wanted it enough.

But here I had time to think, and now I realise, there is a difference of life and death between wanting something enough, and wanting it too much.

* * *

**Title: **Preferences

**Pairing: **Sephiroth/Genesis, Angeal/Zack

**Rating: **PG

**Warning: **tiny bit of angst

**--**

Zack doesn't understand it. When he had finally worked up the courage to make a move on the General, he was flat-out refused.

Zack doesn't understand it, but Angeal does, and he takes the saddened youth's hand between his own, speaking quietly and reassuringly.

Passing by on the corridor, Sephiroth sees it and smiles. Angeal can have his sunshine boy. And though he would never admit it, the man is worried for his friend, knowing that when clouds come, one is left in the shadows.

There is a flash of red at the end of the corridor catching his eye, and with a small, devious smirk he speeds up his steps a bit.

Angeal can have his sunshine boy. Sephiroth prefers solar flares anyway.

* * *

**Title: **Point of No Return

**Pairing: **Sephiroth/Genesis

**Rating: **PG-13

**Warning: **angst

**--**

_"If we can't go back, then kill me with your own hands..."_

_/Gackt - Future/_

Blue-green mako eyes ablaze with anger, but beneath the surface, tears are quivering cold.

"Why don't just kill me?" he asks, challanging, _daring_ the man looking down at him. There is no answer, green cat-eyes ever so unreadable. But it doesn't ignite the usual flame in his chest anymore, settles on his throat like a gripping hand instead.

Finally, he gathers the strength to get up from the ground, first to push his back against the cold hard metal of the mako reactor, the to finally stand up once again, hopeless and desperate and defeated and he laughs, so very hollow. "And here I thought I was the weak one…"

He starts walking away, arms hanging helpless at his sides before he is grabbed, turned and pulled into a soul-stealing kiss. Tears he managed to keep unshed are now flowing freely as his hands sink into a mane of endless silver, salt tainting the kiss he knows is the last.

* * *

**Title: **Long Road To Ruin

**Characters: **Lazard, Genesis, Angeal

**Rating: **G

**Warning: **none

**--**

Lazard slowly, very slowly raised his head, grey eyes shining piercingly behind his glasses like two monochrome suns, even though they didn't have any mako in them.

"This shall not be repeated in the future, did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Genesis sighed, lips drawn together like a parent giving up on explaining to his dumb child that two plus two didn't make up five at all. It made Angeal cringe in his seat, such displays of the utter lack of respect towards superiors always did.

"Your irresponsible actions have already caused trouble to the department numerous times," the blonde went on. "This is not what I expect from my First Classes, understood?"

"But sir..."

"Save it. I won't listen to more excuses on your behalf, Genesis," came the stern voice of the director with a tone of outmost finality.

"But sir...," this time it was Angeal who chimed in, but he went quiet once the same unforgiving gaze was directed at him.

"And you... you should've prevented this action right on the spot!" Lazard pointed his finger at him, and Angeal felt like disappearing never seemed a better idea. Well, except on the occassions when Genesis directed a fire spell straight at him, but that was a different matter entirely.

"Yes, sir, I am well aware that certain rules..."

"Rules are there for a reason. Just how am I supposed to account to the board of directors for spending half of the department's renovation budget on handmade Wutaian silk _curtains_?"


	15. Obfuscate

**Disclaimer: I don't own these guys, they own me.**

**Warning: implied yaoi - does that scare anyone here?**

**A/N: Just a little something I had entirely too much fun writing. I know I had been silent for a good while, but the good news is, I wasn't idle, and I have two fics in the beta reading process now, one Angeal/Genesis and one Sephiroth/Genesis that shall be up by the weekend. :) As always, reviews are love.**

* * *

"In my opinion, if we execute the crossing here, that involves an unnecessary risk of having our troops scattered in a wide area disorganised and thus more vulnerable. Also, the river here is deep and fast..."

There was an unmistakeable hum coming from his left, and Lazard tore his eyes away from the map and Genesis to glance at their silver hero who was obviously intently listening to his fellow general. The redhead paused for a second, then cleared his throat and went on, gaining the blonde director's attention once again.

"As I said, considering the circumstances present in this area, we can rightfully assume that not only would it endanger the success of the crossing, but probably result in property and equipment damage we could avoid otherwise. Also, we must consider the physical exertion the troops would be subjected to during the crossing."

"From what I gather you are implying that it might tire the men out. Wouldn't you agree with me that it is a grave underestimation of SOLDIER stamina?" Sephiroth interrupted with outmost politeness, though there was something slightly disturbing in his tone Lazard couldn't quite put a finger on. "Oh, and on a sidenote," Sephiroth added casually, "as we were just discussing equipment damage, the control panel in the VR room needs urgent fixing. Please, continue, Genesis, I'm all ears," he turned back to the redhead with a smallest of smiles that could, by all means, qualify as smug, resting his chin on his entwined fingers.

"I heard of vicious undercurrents in that zone," Genesis answered with a pointed glare, then turned back to the board of directors. "I deeply respect Sephiroth's opinion, but I am also convinced that our taskforce is better suited to take the bridge by force than to penetrate into unfamiliar territory without proper preparations."

"During our last... _discussion_," there was a barely there pause before the last word Lazard was sure no one noticed who wasn't overly familiar with Sephiroth's speech patterns, "I was made to believe you were under no protest considering fast tactical advance in key areas," the silver haired man's eyes were full of something like malice, except far too content, far too amused.

Genesis on the other hand seemed like it was only the presence of the directors that kept him from causing permanent damage to the conference room, his cheeks flushing slightly as he continued to glare at Sephiroth with all the venom in the world before he grit his teeth and went on further explaining his arguments.

Lazard frowned. Was he perhaps missing out on something?


	16. Apart With You

**Disclaimer: Do not own.**

**Warning: This chapter is RATED M for m/m smex and masturbation! Don't like, don't read.**

**A/N: Final Fantasy VII: Sephiroth: Noise - _He liked to hear them. _Seeing the prompt my mind went straight to the gutter, and remained there. My apologies, and many thanks to the loveliest Icelady for the beta reading and all the immense help.**

**A/N2: Three other stories are up! _And The Leaves Fall _(Angeal/Genesis), _By Your Side_ (mild Sephiroth/Genesis) and _Skies Realigned_ (Sephiroth/Angeal/Genesis). Please feel free to check them out and drop a comment. **

* * *

He liked to hear them.

That didn't change with the fact that even _he_ with _his_ upbringing knew that it was wrong on so many levels, or that it was well past midnight and he had a drill to supervise early in the morning.

He turned on his back, long moonlight hair fanning out under and around him on the black pillow as he let his eyes fall closed and listened to the sound of heavy breaths and the subtle rustle of clothes, barely there even for his enhanced hearing. Until there was the scream of leather on leather followed by a low moan, and he squeezed his eyes even more firmly shut.

He shouldn't be doing this, he knew.

But then there was a chuckle, a breathless gasp, a belt hitting the floor with a metallic clink and then that sweet moan again, so wanton and seductive, so uniquely _Genesis_. The swish must've been the pants sliding down those gorgeous long legs, and he could see it all too clearly in his minds eye, Angeal's large hands working it down the smooth skin just a few shades lighter than his, pressing butterfly kisses to those sinfully tempting thighs.

A groan, the voice this time deeper and rougher, but nonetheless beautiful reached his ears sending a shiver down his spine. He knew this sound as he knew all the sounds they made, conscious or not, and this one signalled a certain border crossed, flooding his veins with pure excitement.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this even as he sneaked his hand under the covers, sliding it over his abdomen and feeling the muscles quiver slightly at the sloppy, wet sounds of a kiss turning into a series of kisses accompanied by harsh pants and softer gasps. He imagined how it would feel, to have those lips pressed to his, kiss them bruised, feel the wet heat of their tongues sliding against his, curling around his teasingly...

He rested his fingers on his thigh, feeling the tension there that was vibrating through his body in delicious tides as he kept on listening to Angeal's chuckles and sighs and Genesis' mouth spilling lecherous obscenities, playing out everything behind his closed lids, every caress of fingertips, every scrape of nails and teeth.

He felt himself growing painfully hard as the sounds escalated, sharper, needier, louder; oh gods did he wish they were there on the black sheets with him, so he could feel them, touch them, taste them... He imagined his fingers getting lost in silky strands of red and black, so astonishing in their contrast, his lips tracing the smooth expanses of skin bared for pleasure and could hear his name escaping their lips in a breathless plea for more, always for more, for _enough_.

Swallowing back a groan he reached out with his right hand, blindly rummaging through the top drawer of the nightstand and pulling out a tube of lube. An impatient flick and the cap was open, and he coated his fingers liberally with the slick substance, bottle falling forgotten to the bed and getting lost in the folds of the blanket now kicked off, his naked body exposed to the caress of blissfully cool air on his heated skin.

He wrapped one of his slick hands around his cock, starting a rythm that matched the fervent noises from Angeal and Genesis while he slid the other under his thigh, letting out a small hiss as he felt the coldness of the liquid on his feverish skin, but just like the other two, he was far too impatient to wait any longer, and when he heard the twin moans ending in gasps, he pushed a finger inside. Lips parted in a soundless moan of his own he added another, pushing harder, deeper, quickly finding what he was searching for, his other hand never stopping for a moment as his hips rocked as if on their own will, working him towards completion.

So close, so close, so close... His hair was sticking to his face, chest heaving with heavy breaths, and when he heard the all too familiar cries of pure extasy, it took just that before he too, came, biting his lower lip to silence his moan, muscles tense like piano wires before he collapsed back on the messy black sheets with a quiet gasp, the afterglow of his orgasm settling heavy and sweet over his limbs.

Silent, sinful bliss.

Even the sounds from the other side disappeared, leaving Sephiroth with a painful realization that he was all alone.

Until Genesis' mocking chuckle broke the silence. "Hope you enjoyed yourself," his voice turned into a muffled purr. "Can't wait to do this again when you are back." For a moment, Sephiroth searched blindly before he found the source and he lifted the cell phone to his ear.

"I trust you to survive those two days left," he answered with a purr of his own.

"Highly unlikely," the redhead sighed dramatically, and he felt the corner of his lips curve.

"Goodnight, Genesis. Angeal."

And then, just before he flipped the phone shut, he heard the unmistakable steady tone of their third - Angeal. "And we miss you too."


	17. Red On White

**Disclaimer: Still don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: potentially disturbing images**

**A/N: It totally wrote itself. Honest.**

* * *

I watch you on your way down, mourner at the shallow grave as the walls of the coffin of your life slide into place and your past self descends into tart scent of cedar wood I have nailed together with my own hands for you permeates the air like smoke, and I open my mouth to drive the nails deeper.

Nails of revenge, nails of sacrifice.

Here I stand, hand in hand with my devastating salvation and contorted fibres and a rope around my neck. Make the bells toll when you rise again, falling star, tear of Orion on his way to the sea.

Drowning the sorrow at the cost of pride.

Here I stand, by the wound carved into the welcoming body of the earth that sucks Her life away like a greedy infant on the breast of the dying mother. The words spilling past my choking lips as the ember of your ephiphany graces them. A voice of rustling leaves, smelling of dust and frail like heaven, it turns to ashes at the touch of my consciousness.

These bitter words, they must seem a lot like hatred... I had to tell you myself before *_they*_ did, because from me, you knew it was true. In the bodiless light seeping through the cracks in me, do you see the dawn of your eyes?

Here I stand with my book of lies and dissolve my ragged self in you. I put on this red mantle of dying life, torn conscience of the beast. Under its rich folds I hide, in this thick and soft suffocation of rotten glory and bought filth that taint me with truth.

I watch you on your way down, falling star, soul-ripped comet in the night of void, a gap between two threads of a poisonous spider web. Make the bells toll and I will hold you in the palm of my red gloved hand, morning star, bringer of light, waiting for the valkyries to descend and spread the rainbow under your feet.

In the smoke of our radiant memories I see your silver beauty laced with iridescent hatred. I will feed it with the broken light of my eyes. I will make the sacrifice, I bow my head to you and on the ruins of my life I offer my neck to the knife.

From the thorn that pierces my heart, the pain blooms words you will never hear. Stuck in the velvet of my throat they freeze into a thousand bleeding shards as I wait for an answer.

You won't deny me with my knees in the dust and decay in my breath, will you, my beautiful tormentor, my wrathful archangel?

I hold out my last apple to you, perfect, immaculate as I used to be. Take it. Rip it apart with your teeth. Swallow. Yours.

I watch as it hits the ground, rolls, rolls, rolls and...

_*What have you done?* _


	18. Beauty Has Its Price

**Disclaimer: Still don't own.**

**Warning: CRACK**

**A/N: My apologies. I just had to. Written for the prompt: Genesis/Angeal/Sephiroth, disastrous evening - "You never struck me as the type that could pick locks."  
**

* * *

"Ouch!"

"Be quiet!"

"But Angeal, it _hurts_!"

"Think about how much it'll hurt when they catch us!"

Genesis would've made some snide retort, but a black gloved hand clamped over his mouth while an arm snuck around his waist and kept him securely in position until the sound of countless running feet falling back from the metallic walls and echoing faintly died away in the distance.

Sephiroth gave Angeal questioning look, and when after a moment of listening with strained senses the elder nodded, he released Genesis.

"Let's get out of here," he stated calmly even though the look in Genesis' eyes would've made anyone run for cover screaming. The only thing that saved him from the redhead's wrath was that Genesis (no matter what some idiots living on office gossips might have thought) wasn't stupid, and a string of selected curses would've put a huge question mark after the 'successful' part of their so far successful escape.

Angeal sticked his head out to the intersecting corridor, then signalled for them that it was clear, and the silver and red generals followed him, still engulfed in a glaring contest, the pair of blue mako eyes furious and the green ones seemingly disinterested. Angeal just rolled his.

They came to a door that supposedly lead to the elevators only to find it closed. After a moment of hesitation, the black haired man turned back and sighed.

"So... what now?"

"I'll open it."

Genesis gave Sephiroth a sceptical eyebrow raise. "You never struck me as the type that could pick locks."

"Well," the silver hero all but purred as he moved to take Angeal's place at the door, "you never struck me as the type that was opposed to multiple talents. May I?"

Before Genesis could've answered, Sephiroth's black clad fingers already got lost in his tresses, coming away with one of the longer hairpins that he promptly utilized to open the door.

"I hope you are aware that you have just ruined something that cost over a hundred gil!" Genesis seemed to be torn between killing Sephiroth and spontaneously combusting.

"If it weren't for you, we would've never found ourselves in this situation to begin with," Angeal felt the need to point out.

"When I came up with the idea of dressing us all in drag for the Halloween party, I had _no idea_ they invited the fanclubs!"


	19. Rebirthing

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: just the usual angst and perhaps some disturbing imagery**

**A/N: Huge special thanks to Andrannath aka Ice Lady. Inspired by the song _Rebirthing_ by Skillet. **

**My dear friends and lovely readers, this probably shouldn't make me as happy as it does, but your continueing kindness and support does mean a lot to me.  
**

**~THANK YOU FOR 100 REVIEWS!~  
**

* * *

Someone looking at him could've thought he was asleep or dead, the body sealed away through sacrifice did not move, _could _not move, suspended in time like a bug caught in amber. But even though his eyes were closed, he was still conscious inside, trapped inside his own mind and counting the time by his own heartbeat and waiting, waiting, waiting...

Impatient by nature, it was nothing short of torture, but he deserved it and far worse for that matter, and if this was what was wanted from him, if this was the price to be paid, then this was what he would do. If this was the way to earn redemption, he would suffer the suffocation as he watched the delicate balance of the world slowly returning to the equilibrium as the Lifestream sang through all things undisturbed once again.

Healing was slow, so slow, but the Planet itself was healing too, and the lullaby of the living, like a song without melody, eased the burden and soothed the ache. And perhaps, perhaps there was salvation somewhere within his reach, forgiveness for his past, all the things that were done to hurt, to tear down, to destroy. All the things that could not quench the heartache, only made him want more and more and more without realising, _admitting_ it was only widening the cracks inside him.

And some cracks those were.

But now, perhaps, he was strong enough to put the past behind him, to start anew, open his eyes and be able to keep his head high again.

Something stirred in the green flow of the Lifestream unfolding behind his closed eyelids, some sort of anomaly in the perpetual order, something infinitely small, that somehow still felt familiar... He dismissed it with a mental shrug, too fragmented, too dim to make out in the ever flowing pattern.

Perhaps, his time would soon come to step out of the shadows and offer himself to the world, purified and accepted back into the heart of his Goddess. Perhaps, he was ready...

It burnt his skin like a piece of white-glowing iron, branding him, marking him and crashing into a searing explosion in his chest like poison, poison, poison...

A presence.

From the fragments that he noticed earlier, something was emerging, something was becoming whole, rising,_ rebirthing_, flooding his senses violently and he was unable to shut it out or tone it down, it just kept on coming and coming and coming and then there it was...

_Pain._

The reawakened flow of life tore through him in a violent tide, and there was nothing but pain, pain, pain, and he would've screamed his agony until his throat went numb, but he was stripped of his voice and there was nothing but black silence engulfing him into its core and ringing in his ears.

With his breaths that seemed to stop, he was taking him in, thirsting, hurting, breaking. It was filling up his lungs like oxygen, it burnt, as if he had spent too much time underwater, but instead of giving life, this breath asphyxiated. Memories washed him away in a white rush, drowning him in hatred, love, desire, obsession, vengeance, respect, admiration; choking, bleeding, dying.

Moonlight hair that flowed in cool rivulets of pure satin, a lovely contrast to heated skin.

Mako green eyes that still held his name even though the world around them had forgotten.

The Nightmare of the Planet was back.

He threw himself at the restraints of his own flesh, until it felt like his bones were breaking and the force of his desperation tearing his insides out, until it felt like a thousand steel hooks were dissecting him in every direction, every nerve on cold acid fire and there was still no way out, no way out, no way...

But he had to get out, he _had to_, because _he_ was there, Sephiroth was there and so close and _alive_, and he had to break free, break away to find his voice so that he could be _heard_...

That royal, insane laughter rolled through the nothingness that held him prisoner, the majestic voice purring words that were not meant for him and he screamed soundlessly at the top of his lungs, clawing at the walls of darkness around him because this just couldn't be this way, just couldn't be...

Then the presence was suddenly gone again, cold steel cutting through the fresh life thread, cutting through _him_, and he wanted to howl with the cruel irony of it. _Angeal's sword_, except in new hands, unworthy hands, sacrilegious hands.

He could feel it in his chest, the surprise, the cold agony, the burning proud hatred as a black wing was raised, so much like his own, and the silver angel disappeared in a flurry of black feathers, letting him finally collapse back into himself shaking with bitter, sobbing laughter.

Green was seeping through the cracks.

The Flower Girl rejoiced as did the world, once more. But every voice that cheered in unison, every drop of the falling rain did nothing less of killing him inside.


	20. Sex On Fire

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: _RATING CHANGE_! T for angst and implied smex, just to be on the safe side.  
**

**A/N: Prompt: Kings of Leon - Sex On Fire. Songfic-ish, but since the lyrics were so fitting, I tried something new. Check the lyrics and you'll see what I mean.**

* * *

What was it that was different about tonight? What was it that finally made you lose all your inhibitions and led us into the restroom of the bar first and your bed second? No, lay where you're laying, don't make a sound. I don't want an answer. I will rather cover your lips with mine, breathe you in until you burn my lungs.

You can't say it was in the drinks you downed. I know you can take much more than that.

You can't say it was an adrenaline rush, for a little banter at the table is unlikely to surpass our spars. All the commotion for the sole purpose of killing the pain, where we would clash violent and uninhabited and not thinking about how we don't own our lives.

You can't say it was loneliness, because unlike me, you were never alone.

I know they were watching us as we left, they were watching the fall of angels with such eager eyes. I'm sure that our abrupt leave has people talking, but I can't care tonight, no, not tonight. Because tonight, you, your sex is on fire...

In the dark of the alley, we just wanted to survive another night, our breath white in the dim light of street lamps as we made our way to the car. You were looking strictly ahead while I was driving... And we were waiting for the dawn as I kissed you, not knowing that we will never see the break of the day for we are searching in the shadows with blind eyes.

But I do yearn for the light, so look at me, look at me...

Your soft lips are open with quick, panting breaths that paint crimson over my neck. It bleeds down my chest and taints something there. Your eyes are closed, hiding you, shielding you from the way I take and take and take and you urge me on with every forceful thrust of your hips. Your knuckles are pale as you are gripping at my shoulders as though you want to break my bones, when we both know all you want is to keep _yourself_ from breaking.

With bliss that spasms through your body, it feels like you're dying, like you're dying from my embrace...

You, your sex is on fire.

Hot as a fever, rattling bones. The blizzard and the inferno, which one of us will consume the other first? You are burning up on the inside, I could just taste it, and it only leaves me craving so much more. Heat that would keep me from freezing on the inside.

But it's not forever, it's just tonight. Tomorrow, we will go on our separate ways, and I'll watch you belong to someone else, eyes avoiding eyes. But oh, never mind, we're still the greatest, the greatest - together like this.

Because tonight you, your sex is on fire...


	21. Sleep Can Wait

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: Umm... crack?**

* * *

"I'm cold," Genesis whined almost, a slight chatter in his voice together with a hint of something Sephiroth so far only experienced when listening to one of his eyelash-batting admirers.

The silver haired man let out a small, irritated huff. Was that all? Odd as it was, since the sleeping bags they used were qualified as first class equipment and according to the official label, granted to keep bodies warm even in places that were almost as cold as the North Crater. But then again, it really *was* cold outside and fatigue could seriously mess with one's senses.

"So what? Tossing and turning won't make it better."

"Angeal would offer to take me in," Genesis pointed out grudgingly, and turned his back on his friend. "If you have nothing constructive to say, you might as well just remain silent."

And it was silence indeed that followed as Sephiroth evaluated his options. He could be the chivalric knight and offer his help, which wasn't especially tempting considering that he liked his solitude just fine and opening the zipper in such a cold weather wasn't appealing in the least either. Or, he could just ignore his friend's peril, but that just felt wrong and it wouldn't bring him closer to get his much needed sleep anyway.

"All right," he sighed.

"Sorry?" the redhead glanced back over his shoulder, a bit too eager for Sephiroth to assume he didn't hear him.

"Get over here, you," the silver general silently cursed the climate and a certain whimsical redhead, but lifted a corner of his sleeping bag in offering nonetheless. Genesis was quick to comply, something that was at least fairly amusing in this situation, considering how much the older hated to be ordered around.

Good thing was that Genesis was as slender as he was, the bag obviously not designed to house two fully grown male bodies. But like this, they could, with slight effort, work the zipper closed and have a little space to shift into more comfortable positions.

Well, if they could be called that, with a knee ending up between his shins after an accidental kick and hot breaths tickling his collar bone. Not to mention...

"Gen?" he asked, spitting out auburn hair that somehow got in the way.

"Hmm?"

"Don't you think that it would've been better if you actually had some clothes on?"


	22. What Goes Around, Comes Around

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: kinky SOLDIERs**

**A/N: Entirely and irrevocably blamed on Ice Lady. It was her idea, I just wrote, it, okay? Sequel to Apart With You, so as such, I decided to dump it here.**

* * *

"Out of your mind, Cadet?" Genesis growled furiously, the green Materia at his feet still smoking. "You cast Fire on the battlefield next to a dozen barrels of gas, and you are crisp! So is your squad."

Idiots. Bloody idiots, all of them. Good thing he was there, otherwise the whole armed field exercise could've gone real nasty.

"You are all out," he carried his burning gaze around, the group of six young man looking ready to piss their pants. "Back to your base, all of you, you miserable lowlifes and start out again in half an hour. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

"Magnificent," he spat with all the sarcasm in the world, glancing at the name tag on the unfortunate cadet's uniform, unable to recognise him (or any of them, for that matter) with their helmets on. "Morgan! Make sure you have someone look at your hand before you are back on the field!"

Just what was he doing here anyway, stuck with this incompetent bunch for a whole _week_? Why couldn't they send Angeal, who, unlike him, actually liked this whole teaching business? Why did they have to do field training at all? Oh, yes. Because those who have insisted that VR room training was enough obviously never tried to operate the facility with more than three people in there.

A beaming smile worked its way to the young man's lips, whose answer came in the form of an eardrum splitting "Thank you, Sir!" Genesis waved off with clear irritation.

Suddenly, the opening accords of Loveless cut through the air and he reached into his pocket, flipping his phone open.

"Commander Rhapsodos."

There was a muffled chuckle from the other end, then the sounds of heavy breathing, whisper of fabric (_expensive_ fabric), and then nothing else. Was it some sort of a weird joke or perhaps someone had the wrong number?

He was just about to ask who was there when a moan reached his ears from the cell, a deep, shiver-inducing sound of pleasure.

_Angeal._

Wait... but... impossible... surely... sweet Shiva...

"Mmmm, harder, Seph."

_Oh, fuck._

"Lift your legs, angel." An all too familiar purr, and Genesis could feel something warm running down his spine. It could've easily been his brain, as he couldn't find a single though where the damn things were supposed to be.

"Yes! Just like that... ngghh!"

"Imagine he's here... watching..."

"Shit," Angeal grunted, mingled with Sephiroth's chuckle, and Genesis didn't notice his grip around the device was threatening to smash it, blood leaving his brain faster than grunts leaving a building during evacuation practice.

"Mmmm, you could suck him while we are kissing... Then let me taste him in your mouth, angel."

"You were always better at it than I," he could _hear_ the smirk in there, in Angeal's deep voice and...

"You look so good on these red sheets, Angeal," Sephiroth teased, moaned almost, and Genesis froze.

Red sheets.

"He'll kill us once he sees the mess," Angeal said with a bit too much levelness in his voice. The moan of pure pleasure he made after that more than killed any sort of stability he might have had.

_His_ sheets. There was no way... in his bed... The key card to his room was still in his pocket.

"Not after he sees the tape," Sephiroth purred, gloated almost.

They didn't... just for him... no way…

An alien voice pulled him back to reality. He opened his eyes just to stare the cadet with the burnt hand square into the face.

"Everything all right, Commander?"

"What are you staring at, Cadets? Didn't you hear my orders? Do you have troubles with your hearing?"

"Sir, no, Sir!"

"DISMISSED!"

He leaned back against the trunk of a nearby tree, still clutching the phone in his hand unconsciously, trying to determine if he could maybe reach down and jerk off without being found out, and gritted his teeth when he heard the footsteps of another squad approaching the clearing.

Goddess have mercy, this was going to be a _very _long week. And he was going to personally make sure that every. damn. cadet. would feel his pain. Acutely.


	23. Icarus flying

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: implied character death**

**~HAPPY NEW YEAR!~**

* * *

It seemed so easy back then. They offered me wings and I had no choice but to accept. They never asked me if I wanted this. If I agreed to all the torture and suffering at their hands. Which I didn't.

But, as I said, there wasn't much choice left for me. And some part in me that was able to look further than the pain of the next round of injections was joyful and impatient. They promised me wings, though at that time I had no idea that it would one day become the shattering horror of my life.

Back then, my wings had no black feathers.

They made me stronger, faster, agile and lethal, these uncaring scientists. They made me into their weapon, their sword carrying arm, and I went along.

I learnt to flap those wings and I rose...

There was nothing comparing to that intoxication. To hear the whispers of admiration and jealousy, the flattering praises and the promises of higher, closer, _more_.

I spread those wings and I soared...

Every gust of wind, every flex of will and muscles brought me closer to my destination. High up, where you were, shining sun, unconquered light, promise of the endless dawn. Every victory, every drop of blood shed was my ascendancy, every new drop of poison in my blood was the promise of the stratosphere.

And more and more I wanted...

I was almost there, almost there, almost but not quite, but you looked at me and there was something in your eyes that drew me like a magnet, that made me want to reach you. To be equal to, to be worthy of what I had in my sights. The perfection of you.

And I tried so hard, but once there, I had to realise that these wings were held together by nothing but wax, too weak, too _weak_! I gave it a last, desperate try, but the wax just melted faster, faster from the heat and the exertion, faster from the desperately struggling flaps of my wings, they betrayed me, belied my dreams of greatness.

Now, the sound of waves crashing against rock is coming closer and closer and so _close_...

* * *

**A/N:** In Greek mythology, Icarus' father, Daedalus, attempted to escape from his exile in Crete, where he and his son were imprisoned. So he fashioned a pair of wings of wax and feathers for himself and his son. Before they took off from the island, Daedalus warned his son not to fly too close to the sun, nor too close to the sea. Overcome by the joy of flight, Icarus soared through the sky curiously, but in the process he came too close to the sun which melted the wax holding his wings together, and so, Icarus fell into the sea.


	24. And When It Comes Around

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: RATING CHANGE! This piece is rated M for crossdressing and smut.**

**A/N: Sequel to What Goes Around, Comes Around. I know I have been awfully silent for a good while. I blame it all on my exams, and bringing you some smuttier pieces as a result. Hope you enjoy them, and if you do, please let me know. :)  
**

**

* * *

**When he received word that he was to go on an eight day long mission in the Corel area, Angeal honestly expected the call. He even joked about it with Genesis, how now he would be the one to suffer. It seemed like this could turn into a little tradition with no effort, considering the mind blowing experience of the last time, Genesis returning with a week's worth of pent up lust and frustration, all too eager to take all of that out on his lovers.

And take it out he did. It still made Angeal's blood stir just thinking about it.

So, from the first moment of arriving to the SOLDIER base and dropping his bag on the floor in the room that he was to occupy for the next eight days, he expected the call. He decided to be careful about it though, so he turned the sound off during time spent away from the base. Hunting monsters and digging through underground tunnels was enough of a strain without a hard on.

Which, he had no doubt, he couldn't avoid if those two set their minds on giving him one.

However, the call didn't come. Three days passed already, and it was only then that it started sinking in just how much he was waiting for it, as his frustration escalated with the speed of a chocobo on crack. He got into the habit of placing his PHS on the pillow beside him and murmuring an affectionate "if you wake me up in the middle of the night, Gen, I'll kill you" before drifting to sleep.

And wake up somewhat disappointed in the morning to the sounds of running showers and horrible clatter of kitchenware from the other side of the wall.

This was ridiculous. No, this was outrageous. If Genesis considered this a joke, then it was the worst one he had pulled so far. And also unquestionably the most inane, selfish, irritating... Damn, he started to sound like Lazard.

By the fifth day, he seriously considered calling them, just to hear their voices if nothing else. But the moment he flipped the phone open, his pride kicked in, and he sank it back into his pocket without dialling. Cactuar his name be if he was going to do that.

By the seventh day, everybody at the base knew something was definitely off with their beloved and respected commander, but the only officer who dared to ask ended up with a curt grunt of denial, and nobody after that dared to push the envelope. However, Angeal could swear he heard relieved sighs when his chopper took off on the last day, and that did nothing to help his mood.

Usually, kinky or not, they would call each other at least once every two days, more often if they could afford the time. Sweet Shiva, how he missed falling asleep to Genesis' warm voice on the phone reading Loveless or telling stories about the day's happenings. The new play they have seen with Sephiroth, their latest spar, or just their midnight trip to the cafeteria after they realised they were out of the thing with the most strategic importance for the night - whipping cream.

He missed it even though the redhead would throw a bitch fit over it every single time.

Between the chopper landing on top of the Shinra Tower and him standing before the door to his room barely ten minutes passed, and he fully intended not to let that time reach eleven before he would drop his pack and set out to find his _friends_.

And kill them. Or at least make their lives a living hell. Oh yes.

However, the moment he reached the bedroom door, the bag in his hand dropped to the floor with a loud thud, together with his jaw.

That... that...

That was Genesis, on his bed, riding Sephiroth slowly, sensually, but on top of that all, like it wasn't enough to make Angeal's heart race like a wild stud, wearing the red outfit he had ordered back _then_ with the leathers, but never worked up the courage to actually gift his beloved with.

And everything fit so beautifully, even more sinfully arousing than he ever imagined it would be, the red stockings highlighting those mile long legs gripping Sephiroth's sides tightly, the red a breathtaking contrast to his smooth, pale thighs. The garter belt hugging his slim hips like a second skin under Sephiroth's hands palming them and gently urging his lithe body into motion, the lacy merry widow and the long gloves taking him a step closer to the feminine side of androgynous. With the black and silver of Sephiroth's beauty to contrast it... It was perfection in all its humbling glory.

Sephiroth's snug leather pants were still on, though pushed down his hips, just enough to let Genesis get what he wanted, and he could all too well picture it, the steps towards the bed, the greedy fumbling, the clumsy, beautiful motions of hands pulling, tearing, ridding, baring for pleasure. The grunts, sighs, moans, impatient and demanding, wanton and lustful tongues creating slick, wet sounds he knew all too well...

Genesis craned his head, azure locking with sapphire, lips in a sweet smile, face smoothed over with pleasure, slender hips never stopping their slow, sinful movement.

"Welcome home, angel."

Angeal gulped, but didn't move. They... they still owed him an explanation and... Goddess, Genesis pulling on those silver locks, making Sephiroth let out a breathy moan and earning a hard thrust of those powerful hips was... but he wasn't giving in just yet.

"I..." he had to clear his throat at seeing Genesis throwing his head back, the slithering undulation of his body, Sephiroth's eyelids lowering over mako eyes bright with lust and his chest arching into the touch of Genesis' fingers teasing his hard nipples. "I believe you owe me a better apology than this for not calling me at all," he managed though, in all honesty, he would've been hard pressed to name any single thing that could've achieved that.

"Oh, that," Genesis' chuckle distorted into a loud moan, and he twisted his fingers in turn, the action rewarding him with a pleasured hiss of his silver haired lover and all the remaining blood leaving the brain of his dark angel. "That, my love, was the punishment for hiding this in your closet and never telling me. But..." his lips spread into a wicked smile, tongue sneaking out to glide over them, leaving a sheen of inviting glossy wetness in its wake. "Buying it in the first place most certainly deserves some credit..."

Angeal couldn't have said no to those fingers curling in wanton invitation if he wanted to. Good thing he didn't.


	25. Little Red Riding Hood

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: questionable roleplay, a little smut**

**A/N: Written for the areyougame community at InsaneJournal. The prompt was: Sephiroth/Genesis: Fairy tale roleplay or AU - _"Why General, what big eyes you have!" "The better to see you with, my dear." _Many thanks to Ice Lady for the beta reading.****Finally, some real S/G action again! ;)**_  
_

* * *

"My, my, look what we have here," an all to familiar voice stopped him dead on his tracks, and Genesis turned, relaxing his suddenly tense body with a sigh, knowing that no one else had the ability to surprise him like that besides a handful of other First Classes.

And this particular one he knew well enough to have a smirk on his lips by the time their eyes met.

"Little Red Riding Hood with a little bag of necessities," Sephiroth mocked, leaning casually against a tree in nothing but the black standard issue pants he used for sleeping. "Going to the hot spring before the troops wake up, I presume." His lips curved into a smile that somehow managed to be knowing, threatening and teasing at the same time.

Genesis stepped closer, running a fingertip down the silver general's bare chest.

"Little Red Riding Hood, hmm? Why General, what big eyes you have!"

"The better to see you with, my dear."

"I can't believe you actually know this tale!" Genesis' eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter, turning a darkened and a little hazed blue the moment he was grabbed and pushed against the tree Sephiroth had been leaning to.

"A Turk used to read them to me before bedtime," Sephiroth spoke against his lips between quick, wet little kisses. "Want me to show you my lair?"

"But my mother always warned me not to stray from the right path," Genesis batted his eyelashes with sweet, mock innocence, squirming against that hold a little, just enough for show and a breath of the friction they were both seeking.

"She never told you what happens if you do?" Sephiroth purred, tracing one ear with the tip of his tongue.

"No," Genesis breathed, head falling back as Sephiroth's lips ghosted over his neck, his hot breath raising goose bumps on his skin. They have gone too long without this, tongues battling, fingers entwined in hair, hard bodies pressing into each other in a heated embrace for a few stolen moments between performing their duties, making sure they won the damned war for Shinra. With every encounter, they were risking far more than just losing rank.

But some things were definitely worth the risk.

"What carelessness," Sephiroth chided in the same low, seductive tone, loving the way the redhead's eyelids drooped and his slick tongue darted out to wet suddenly dry lips. "How could you tell if someone wants to have their wicked way with you then?"

His right hand slid under Genesis' shirt, pushing it up, suddenly both of them rather grateful for the lack of their formal combat wear. Sephiroth's fingertips brushed across the smooth skin of his exposed stomach teasingly, and Genesis gave a little jerk, pressing their thighs closer together.

"You mean, like bandits who would try and deflower the young and innocent, Sir?" Genesis asked, voice just a little breathier, still the epitome of innocence. Sephiroth could swear, if the devilish redhead kept up that facade, he was going to need fresh pants soon. The fact that Genesis' hands were already wandering up the back of his thighs wasn't helping much.

"Oh, yes," he hissed as he felt the nails digging into his skin, biting down on the redhead's neck, sucking sharply until Genesis was moaning, arching into him, demanding more while he himself was lavishing attention to Sephiroth's neck.

"What," a bite to the earlobe, "would they do," kisses down the jaw, "to me that I," nibbling on the tendons, "should be made aware of?"

Sephiroth knew his teeth would leave red marks on that soft pale skin but he only bit harder, pressing closer, suddenly wanting to _see_ them mar smooth perfection. He could faintly taste salt and leather, but he could taste _Genesis _so well, wishing for just one quiet night without missions, meetings, paperwork, just a few spare hours without cameras flashing, Turks watching and weapons clashing.

Genesis' hands were tying into his hair, pulling him into a hard kiss and he ground his hips into that lithe body as their tongues slid against each other and they swallowed each other's moans. He started to tug on the waist of Genesis' pants, but the redhead broke the kiss and put his palm on Sephiroth's chest, keeping him at a distance, making him growl low in the back of his throat.

"I don't think I'm desperate enough to have splinters in my back, thank you," Genesis laughed, a little sly, a little content, but his eyes wanting.

"Well, I considered sneaking under your covers, but you were already gone."

"You worked all night again, didn't you?" Genesis lifted a hand to cup his face, and Sephiroth leaned his head into the touch, the thumb caressing his cheekbone. "You should get some rest."

"I should get more kisses like that. Definitely beats the coffee at the canteen," Sephiroth smirked, leaning closer with his lips parted, but Genesis was suddenly pulling away, slipping out of his embrace like so many times before.

"We better be on our way," he said, gathering his bag that had been discarded somewhere along the way, though none of them could recall when exactly. Then he paused, throwing a wicked smile over his shoulder. "We have half an hour until the waking call, and I expect to be wolfed down, my dear General."


	26. Beholder

**Hello! I know I've been away for awfully long, thesis writing took all my time lately. Sorry for the hiatus. But I guess it tells a lot about the extent of my obsession that I immediately ran back to writing this couple. So I bring two small drabbles for you. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Beholder

_"And it's you and me and all of the people  
And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you"  
_

Eyes.

Iris, pupil, cornea.

Eyes like those of a deer, huge, deep, fanned with long lashes, the blue in them under the mako glow is that of peacock feathers. The fire in them is far from anything even remotely as timid as deers or as fragile as feathers though. It holds the hardness of unforgiving steel and flames that could set hell back to fire if it ever froze over.

Retina, choroid, sclera, precarious tangle of fibers and muscle and tissue, nothing more.

Sephiroth lightly runs his fingertips through auburn hair _protein filament_ barely touching, careful not to wake the other. His eyes take in everything, every little detail of the graceful sleeping form beside him, and his lips spread into a small, bewildered smile despite himself.

He doesn't understand what is it that so fascinates him in this man, his food and his poison.

Soon, those azure eyes will flutter open, those seductive lips will whisper and smile and kiss; and in an hour, they will be fighting again, he knew it, because they always did.

But moments like this were definitely worth fighting for.

* * *

Consumed

_"All darkness shall be hid in his secret places: a fire not blown shall consume him"_

Dark.

It is darkness that surrounds me, but that is fine. I'm not afraid of darkness. Never been.

Never been _allowed_.

Darkness is not being examined and prodded with needles under harsh lights  
that make your eyes hurt.

Darkness is watching the city bleed mako green light into my room instead of signing yet another pile of papers.

Darkness is being held in your arms and waking without nightmares.

But this darkness, this cold, creeping _nothing_ that I now feel, that is _inside_…

This darkness I fear.

I can hear your mocking laugh, your velvet voice ringing in my ears, so familiar. The Great General, afraid of darkness… oh, how would you tease me, carelessly driving your claws deep, unaware of your cruelty.

You always are.

Except you are gone and your voice only haunts my memories. You left without a word and left me here without anything that would tell me where to look for you. That would tell me why am I alone in this bed now.

And I feel the darkness creeping just a little bit closer.


	27. Marionette

**Warning: angst, implied smut  
****A/N: I was just playing with a theory of mine that owes a lot to discussions with ****j-cae at LJ and a fic by DarkSeraphim1.**

* * *

"Jenova!" she screamed with rage, but her only answer was laughter filled with cold, malicious glee. Her blue eyes widened with horror, her thoughts desperately reached out for her Knight, for her Son only to be blocked out by the heat of searing passion, burning waves of lust.

She was too late…

"That's right, Minerva," the Calamity purred, her wicked laughter falling into the void.

Her Knight… her Fighter…

Angeal was supposed to be her Knight, his soul pure and unscatchable like diamonds, his honor and pride meant to be his armor against the world, his love for Nature, for the Living was his devotion to Her and his loyalty the seal on his Fate.

But then it all went wrong, just because of one man, the pride of a useless speck of dust on the surface of the Planet. Free will, her thousand-time cursed Gift to mankind. Hollander was _not_ supposed to do what he did, not after she sacrificed one of her own children, one of the last remaining Cetra to further the research.

It was Angeal who was supposed to get those cells, the cells of her precious daughter, so that he could see before and beyond his time, so that he could wield the magic of the Planet, so that he could hear her Voice and do her bidding.

Instead, it was another unborn, another boy, and like it wasn't enough, in the last moments Hollander added the cells of the Calamity, and the Planet echoed the mothers' soundless scream. Her Chosen and her Son, both defiled, tainted by the poison before birth.

And now, this…

She guided him to the mako caverns, warding off lurking monsters that crossed the path of her Son, her Weapon, showing him the crystals, telling him ancient tales and ancient rhymes, whispering about glory and sacrifice. When he faltered on the path that she had set for him, _she_ gave him dreams of grandeur, _she _whispered in his ear the means to defeat his enemies, _she_ shielded him on the battlefield, gave his sword strength, his strikes speed…

This was her reward?

"See him? Your precious one in the embrace of my Son, my _beautiful _Son?" Jenova laughed, a tingling, malicious laugh, because here it did not matter that her throat had been severed by wires and voice trapped in the formaldehyde that preserved her mortal body.

She felt the wind of her rage tearing at her blonde hair in a vicious whirlwind, eyes shining brighter than the stars as she watched him fall back with a final flare of rapture, limbs tangled with another's, hands tangled in the veil of silver hair that made her burn with hatred, that covered them in its silken veil but could not conceal any of the blasphemous sin.

Her Son had betrayed her.

"Mine," the Calamity seethed malevolently. "Into my arms he is drawn, into the poisonous web I have ready and waiting, and one by one, they will be mine..."

"NO!" the Goddess cried, her rage banishing the Calamity from her presence.

She couldn't let this happen. Who knows how long this sacrilege has gone on while her eyes were turned, but this would end here. The Child of the Calamity will pay dearly for tainting her Champion, so dearly death will seem a mercy by the time they were through. She will strike him down the way it hurt the most, with the very hands that were still lost in silver hair.

And her Son, her beautiful, treacherous Son will cry to heaven on his knees before he would be forgiven.

She will see to it all.


	28. Perfect Enemy

**A/N: Just a little something inspired by the song A Perfect Circle - Passive. Consequently, Maynard is to blame. Genesis' POV.**

* * *

Perfect monster.

Yes, you were meant to be that, I won't take my words back. I merely speak the truth.

Bitter, painful truth it may be.

In your green eyes I catch a brief reflection of what you could and might have been, had your fate not intertwined with mine.

It might seem like I'm breaking that connection now. In fact, I couldn't do so even if I wanted to. Our fates run on the same path, lives entwined like our hearts have been. It's just that as the wheel turns, so must we, and only you, who have shared my pain and held my soul wield what no one else in this world.

The power to hurt me.

Thus is stays your right and your ability to become my perfect monster, my perfect enemy.


	29. Ode to the Sun

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.  
Warnings: Light angst.  
A/N: For areyougame at IJ for the prompt: Pampering_ - _Being a spoiled brat, he was used to certain luxuries. Beta read by the lovely**** gothicdragon752.**  
  


* * *

  
Being a spoiled brat, Genesis was used to certain luxuries. There was no denying that his parents' money couldn't get him friends - only enemies - and could fulfill all his needs - except his dreams. He had grown to despise them for thinking otherwise. He downright hated them when they hinted that Angeal's social status did not make him a suitable best and only friend to their son. Yet, he could only look down on their materialism because there were all these small things he never questioned about his life.

Like the maid who kept his room clean and orderly, even though it infuriated him when many times he broke and scattered things in a careless fit of anger to find everything the way it was a mere few hours later. It was so much like their life, too much fake perfection and covering up of ugly truths. It made him feel sick and irate, this power to render his efforts useless and wipe out all evidence of his protests like they had never been. But in the end, at least he did have things to break instead of breaking in himself.

Or there were the pets he had, Pégasos, the thoroughbred riding chocobo he got for his sixteenth birthday and Persephone, the smoky blue Persian, always keeping him company through the numerous hours spent curled up in a chair of their library. As it happened, there was no other library in the vicinity of a hundred mile radius, and looking back, Genesis could only feel blessed, even though he was the only one who ever opened those tomes.

But oh, there were so many other things he took for granted, like the fragrant grass and the blue sky he could watch for hours on end if he so wished, the stars, the clouds, the birds. The flowers that never bloomed in Midgar, the air that was clean and fresh, the sunshine that was beautifully hot kissing his skin, the butterflies that danced around in the summer breeze, the soft, soothing rain and the beloved apples from the orchard.

It made his home sickness so much worse in the beginning. He felt like the smog and the eternal night of the city was slowly sucking out his life, even though he would never admit missing the town he felt bitter about calling his home. But despite everything, he still felt sorry for Sephiroth, who had no such issues himself, but neither any idea what he was missing.

But that will have to change, he swore silently. The next time they were both on a leave, he will take Sephiroth to Banora, show him what it was like to live without a few thousand tonns of steel pressing down on them like an ever haunting threat of suffocation.

"What are you thinking of?" there came the low murmur interrupting his thoughts, and his fingers slid back into endless silver hair, working out tangles and massaging more shampoo into the heavy mass he adored.

"Nothing," his lips curved into a small smile at the pleased almost-purr coming from his lover.


	30. Pain of Red

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.**

**RATED M for _bondage, wax, blood play, asphyxiation, masturbation_**

**A/N: For**** areyougameIJ for the prompt:Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core, Sephiroth/Genesis: after battle – He tasted like sweat and leather. Strongly inspired by Andrannath's fic Like It rough and the song Pierrot the Clown by Placebo, which is where the quote is from.  
**

* * *

_"Leave me bleeding on the bed, see you right back here tomorrow, for the next round."_

* * *

Sephiroth never thought it would happen again. It was a one time deal, an unspoken agreement between the two of them. They both got what they wanted, and that was it. There were no sweet promises of more involved, and it was fine that way. He haven't even thought about it, not more than any other. A short dwelling of thoughts the next day as he slowly, lazily jerked off in the shower before washing away all evidence of the night before, getting ready for just another day in the busy Shinra hive.

Perhaps two months passed before there was a knock on his door in the dead of night again.

With narrowed eyes, he watched Genesis standing there, straight from battle, covered in blood, with the slaughter burnt into his eyes and the scream of the dying in his ears. After a moment, he stepped to the side to give him space to enter. There was desperation in those blue eyes, hatred for the world and himself

It was so sweet on his tongue.

He tasted like sweat and leather and death and Sephiroth loved it. The redhead was so pretty with his wax-kissed skin and the matching red imprint of Sephiroth's hands around his throat, so pretty as he arched his neck, biting his lower lip until it bled, just adding to the enthralling picture he made.

Red really is his color, no doubt about it.

And he always comes back for more.

Sephiroth doesn't know when he started to look forward to the next round, when the slow, sinister smile came about for the first time while assigning the other to a particularly demanding campaign. Or the first time he barged into the redhead's room uninvited.

Not like it really matters. There are few people willing to take everything he throws at them, even less capable of it.

Genesis is both.

"Tomorrow," he purrs, licks a wet trail up the shell of the ear so conveniently close to his lips, gets up. His eyes take in the scene before him, marvel at the sight of red silk rope biting into delicate wrists, cutting circulation, of red marks stark against skin so pale, clean cuts made with so much tender precision. Then he turns, leaves without a word, without a backward glance, small smile still ghosting on his lips.

A shower. He definitely needs a shower.


	31. On The Porch

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, they own me.  
**

**Warnings: Awful, awful crack.**

**A/N: Written for areyougame at IJ for the prompt: Angeal/Genesis/Sephiroth: AU - They're all alive and old and on rockers on the porch.**

* * *

"Angeal, bring me a lemonade if you would?" Genesis called from the porch.

"The last time I checked, that was a rocker and not a wheelchair, Genesis," the younger rolled his eyes, but put a glass for him on the tray of food he prepared for their early dinner.

It was barely seven in the afternoon; the sun was still shining, but the air was getting considerably cooler, much more bearable than the scorching heat of the midday Banora sun. They liked to spend the quiet evening hours outside before retreating into the mansion they shared by the time the mosquitoes and bugs started to get too attentive. What disturbed them was more the cool evening dew though. For, as Genesis liked to put it, any little blood-sucker that was stupid enough to bite them would fall over dead from the mako after the first drop of blood.

From their seats on the porch they could see the village, the small, well-kept houses with their white walls and smoking chimneys. Angeal often felt overwhelming relief that he managed to talk Shinra out of bombarding the place. It was a damn good thing Hollander found the cure for their degradation before things could've gotten any worse.

In his new state of health, Genesis returned to Midgar, finally reconciled with Sephiroth, though not before Professor Hojo suffered a sudden accident in his lab involving Apocalypse that caused the sad, untimely demise of the brilliant scientist.

Well, at least that's how the papers put it.

In the end, what really mattered was that - due to the circumstances - their life suddenly took a turn for the better, something that seemed near impossible just a few weeks earlier while their souls were burdened by so much pain and sorrow and anger and regret and hate. When all of that ceased to matter and they could turn their attention to mending each other's wounds instead of tearing new ones with every passing day.

Genesis decided he liked the freedom of being rid of Shinra and opted out of the SOLDIER program with a huge golden parachute as compensation (and keeping his mouth shut about his ordeal, of course). He devoted himself to his Banora White Juice empire, travelling all around Gaia; satisfying his exhibitionist streak through writing a series of best selling novels about his days in the war and becoming the spokesman of the Rainbow Society, widely known across the continent for supporting gay marriage.

Angeal, being fed up with Shinra himself, resigned and returned to Banora where he took over supervising the Rhapsodos' orchards and he was not afraid of showing how much he remembered of his training sessions if anyone dared to implore how that was below a former general of SOLDIER.

Sephiroth stayed true to his image and stayed at Shinra, with frequently authorised investigative missions to Banora. What the objectives of those missions were, few knew, but as bedsheets couldn't tell tales and no one complained about the visits, all was well. No one was really surprised when upon finally retiring the General moved to Banora, and if there were a malicious few whispering about the three of them living together, they couldn't care less.

"Here," he put down the tray on the wooden table and sat back into his rocker with a contented little moan, joints protesting against the movement.

"Thank you love," Genesis flashed him a smile, revealing his even white teeth that thanks to all the mako treatments (and a very good dentist) were still his own. Even closer to seventy than sixty, Genesis retained the fire to his blue eyes, the trademark arrogant smirk and his graceful, albeit at times overly dramatic gestures.

"You know you're still so beautiful?" Angeal asked with a warm smile.

"You're just saying that to get into my pants."

"Like I've never been there before," he rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"You've never been where?" Sephiroth cut in, stirred from his light slumber.

"In Gen's pants."

"Hmph. As if," the silver general chuckled and dozed off again, Genesis looking on fondly.

"Seph and you can have a contest of who has the most grey hair," he turned to Angeal, teasing.

"At least we all know whom you gave the most gray hairs, kitten."

Yes, despite all the changes, some things never changed, like their constant verbal warfare and usual teasing, Angeal thought with content. Or their love for each other. Nevermind the hardships they faced, in the end, they all just served to make them realise how close they got to losing each other. It made them see just how lucky they were, the three of them.

"Get off my lawn, you hooligans!" Genesis' voice suddenly pulled him from his thoughts, the redhead rising from his chair onto unstable legs, shaking his ebony cane at the kids passing by.

Angeal buried his face in his hand. Some things just never changed.


	32. Pick Your Poison

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, they own me.**

**Warning: crack**

**A/N: Written for areyougame at IJ for the prompt: Genesis - depilation: the smoothness turns him on. Yes, you read that right.**

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Some thought he was wired a bit awkwardly, some downright considered him a masochist.

In reality, he thought himself a sensible man – what was enduring a little pain when one could compare it to the outcome and see what could be gained with just a little endurance? Supporting a wounded comrade with an arm that had a bullet hole in it just so he could still use his sword hand… he'd been there, done that, and people thought it was heroic. What was the difference between that and depilation, really?

Besides depilation not hurting half as much, of course.

And he just couldn't help it, he liked his skin smooth like a baby's, supple, silky under his fingers. Which, of course, was not to say he despised body hair in its entirety, he smiled a little to himself as he massaged lotion into his sensitised skin. After all, that would mean permanently banning Angeal from their bed, as he couldn't quite picture talking his childhood friend into following his example. Besides, when Angeal's beard scraped his skin, oh sweet Shiva…

"Mmm, taking your sweet time again," came a low purr against his ear.

"Why, am I missing out on something?" he smirked, movements never faltering.

"Not yet, but if you don't hurry up, you might just miss Angeal getting the best blowjob of his life," Sephiroth threatened with a smirk of his own, but showed no signs of moving away, pressing up against Genesis from behind instead.

If there was anything he loved more than Angeal's stubble, it definitely had to be having Sephiroth's body wrapped around him, hard muscles taut under miles of perfectly smooth, pale skin that only served to reinforce his obsession with his own body.

No, he certainly couldn't care less about pain, he thought as those strong hands stroked the back of his thighs appreciatively, lips cajoling him to leave for the bedroom.

He was all too willing to comply.


	33. Numbers

******Disclaimer: Don't own them, they own me.**  
**Warnings:** angst   
**A/N:** Huge thanks to Andrannath aka Icelady for the beta reading. Written for the Insanejournal community areyougame for the prompt "Final Fantasy VII, Sephiroth: tattoos – _Hojo had marked him as his property, so he thought it was natural to mark the ones he thought of as his own._"

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The moon shone a pale silver, painting shadows on the ground, enhancing the glow of the cursed trees of the Forbidden Forest. Kadaj watched as it slid off of his double blades as he dragged a sharpening stone along them. The sounds, the movements were comforting, but he couldn't help his thoughts that started wandering again.

Numbers.

He did not remember how he got the tattoo, but Yazoo and Loz had hazy memories of Him, of His wish that they be marked just as He was. Hojo marked Him as his property, so He thought it was natural to mark the ones He considered his own. The tattoos made that all too clear, stark against pale skin that seemed almost translucent in the moonlight.

They looked beautiful, Wutai symbols with additional meaning to them. Loz was Heart, Yazoo Beauty, he himself Power. But in the end, all it came down to was just that.

Numbers.

How convenient, how degrading, he thought with a sneer. So becoming of the man he feared, admired, hated like no other. The one who held the place in Mother's heart Kadaj wanted for himself, the one whose presence was ever so terrifying, beauty ever so haunting and power so intoxicating.

He touched his forearm and gently ran his fingertips over the mark, the sign that read the number five. Loz was three and Yazoo four, it made him wonder where the number two went, that foreign symbol meaning Love. Was there even anyone on Gaia who could befit the meaning as well as they did their own? Kadaj highly doubted it.

Numbers.

Was it all they meant? The question came back now and again to haunt him on his sleepless nights, never offering a satisfying answer.

What Kadaj did not know was that deep down below his feet, under the bustling city of Midgar dreamt a man in red, haunted by the same questions in his troubled slumber.


	34. Make A House A Home

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, they own me.  
**

**Warnings: crack.**

**A/N: I visited Ikea. I shouldn't have.  
**

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"Lars!"

"Mmm?"

"Psst, Lars!"

"Get your elbow out of my side Melvin before I make your mom hiccup."

"Did you get up with your left foot first again, Mr. Savage?"

"What do you _want_, you idiot?"

"Hey, hey, no need to get all snappish!"

"I'm working, unlike _someone_ I know."

"Oh shut up and look at those guys there."

"Don't you have anything better to do but oggle the customers?"

"No, really, I mean, look at them!"

"The icicle and the rainbow advertisement?"

"Don't you think that's the General? And don't roll your eyes, Lars, just _look._"

"You are completely nuts, you know tha- Holy."

"Exactly. If that is not the Great General Sephiroth, I'll eat my cap."

"You can start then, cause there is just no way..."

"Have you lived your whole life under a rock, Lars? There are no other people with glowing mako eyes but SOLDIERs. And that hair!"

"Could be a wig or something."

"Yeah, and the other guy is cosplaying Genesis Rhapsodos for the sheer hell of it."

"How the hell should I know? The world is full of crazies, I should know, I have to work with them."

"You are such a jerk, Lars."

"Whatever. And anyway, why would your idols go shopping for a bed together? Like they don't have better things to do with their time."

"Actually, what concerns me more is... why are they testing all the headboards?"


End file.
